


Round Two

by Graceful_Storyteller



Series: Blue-Eyed Boy [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Dubious Consent, Loki Has Issues, M/M, Mind Control, Pepper is a BAMF, Tony Stark is a whore, everyone is horny, in a good way, jarvis disapproves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graceful_Storyteller/pseuds/Graceful_Storyteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle of New York does not end in the Avengers' victory but in the total annihilation of the city. As far as Loki knows he and his Iron Knight are the only survivors. Whilst the world reels Loki plots his next move, getting more than a little distracted along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Two

Loki awakens in a bed that is warm and soft against his bare skin. He stretches his long limbs languorously, relishing in the luxury and the quiet. It has been over a year since he enjoyed a bed such as this. On Asgard his bed had been decked with the smoothest fabrics and thickest animal pelts, and Loki had spent numerous lazy mornings there before his fall. His lodgings with the Chitauri had been far less conducive to such lethargy.

A chill runs down Loki’s spine at the memory of his fallen army and their true master. Slowly, he shifts into a sitting position and observes the room. There are no personal items, no markers that this room belongs to any one person. The art is generic (stylised paintings of sand and wave and Midgard’s sea birds) as are the furnishings. ‘The Guest Room’ Stark had called it as he guided Loki up the stairs with one hand at the small of the god’s back. Loki is surprised that the mortal did not lead him to his own quarters; he supposes Stark did not see the fun in sharing a bed with someone too exhausted to engage in salacious activities with him.

The smile that briefly slips onto Loki’s lips disappears when the shutters shift to allow a few rays of late-afternoon sun to fall across the foot of his bed. His gaze hastily traverses the room in search of an intruder, but he finds it empty. The tension eases from Loki’s body when Stark’s invisible servant begins to speak.

“Good afternoon Sir. Mr Stark has programmed me to enquire if you require a beverage?”

There is subtle disapproval in the voice and a distinct begrudging attitude towards the task. Loki’s lips curl with amusement as he internally marvels at what Stark has created. “Something warm and sweet would be wonderful.”

Surly silence follows and causes Loki’s delighted grin to widen. Pushing aside the covers Loki slips from the bed and heads for the exit. He summons garments as he walks – a mix of leather and softer fabrics. It is the same outfit he wore the last time he spent the entire day doing research in the palace library, surfacing only when his mother sent a servant to order him to join her for dinner. The smell of dust and ink and knowledge still lingers in the creases of his shirt and brings back flashes of memory as he descends the stairs to the open room that is the resting area. Loki forcefully banishes them; he has no time for such maudlin thoughts when there are schemes to be made and hatched.

At the other end of the room Loki finds a mug full of a steaming brown liquid. He carefully picks up the container emblazoned with the Stark Industries logo and sniffs its contents. The smell is inoffensive and when the god takes a sip he finds the drink sweet. Satisfied, he turns to observe the rest of the room. There is a dormant fireplace, a number of chairs and settees, and numerous gadgets Loki is unfamiliar with. Most importantly, one wall is comprised entirely of glass and gazes out onto a vast ocean. The light entering through this wall of windows illuminates every corner, mercilessly destroying every shadow, and proves to Loki that he is alone.

“Where is Stark?” Loki asks the invisible servant.

“Mr Stark is currently in the workshop. He says to inform you that he will be with you momentarily and suggests that you watch this in the meantime.”

One of the windows darkens and the view of the ocean is replaced with the image of a woman standing before a crisscross of yellow, orange, and red fluorescent tape. Words scroll across the screen beneath her as she speaks to the camera, seemingly unaware of the other mortals scurrying about behind her. Loki steps closer as the servant activates the audio stimulus that accompanies the image.

“Hospitals across the state of New York are being overrun with people worried about radiation poisoning. There is still no word on the number of fatalities following the missile strike on the state’s capital, and due to high levels of residual radiation rescue teams are still being refused entry into certain areas of the city. Nobody is quite sure what is happening here, Rick, as the law enforcement agency supposedly running this circus is refusing to comment on the situation, even to deny the rumours that it is responsible for this nuclear strike against a civilian population.”

“You’d think a super-spy organisation like SHIELD would have a better PR guy.”

Loki turns to see Stark appear at the top of the stairs leading up from his workshop. He is dressed in dark form-hugging trousers, a sleeveless black shirt, thick black gloves that reach his elbows, and a pair of goggles he has pushed up into his hair. Perspiration covers his brow and the folds of his shirt.

Stark notices his gaze and grins. “Been working on some further shielding for Tessie; don’t want either of us to end up sterile because we didn’t protect our boys.”

Loki nods and returns his attention to the newsfeed. Stark approaches and picks up a beverage made for him by his servant.

“SHIELD isn’t going to realise either of us survived for awhile. We’ve got some room to breathe while they scour the area for the Tesseract and Big Green. He’s probably the one with the best chance of surviving a nuclear strike, followed by the Golden Boys. Who knows what gamma monsters, aliens and super soldiers can live through?”

“If they were at the epicentre of the blast I doubt they live. Only if they were smart enough to realise their impending doom and make a hasty retreat will they still draw breath.”

Stark considers this in-between mouthfuls of his beverage. “Blondie was in the air when we teleported the hell out of the danger zone; he might have gotten away with no more than a few third degree burns and an unhealthy dose of radiation.”

Loki is uncertain how he feels about the possibility that Thor is still alive. He chooses to be annoyed that Thor is once again an anomaly he must build his schemes around. That is perhaps the safest thing to feel in regards to his once-brother at present.

“I think we can take Agents Romanoff and Barton out of the equation,” Stark continues to muse. “As far as I know they were regular humans, and they didn’t have enough time to get to a suitable bunker.”

“The woman is devious and not to be underestimated,” Loki says, thinking back on how the Widow manipulated him whilst he was caged.

“Oh, trust me, I know just how devious Agent Romanoff can be; but deviousness isn’t exactly the most helpful quality when you have mere minutes to prepare for a nuclear strike. From what I heard over the comms she knew she was doomed and was more interested in saying goodbye than looking for shelter.”

“Did she know you were listening to her communications?”

“After I stole Captain America’s shield for your trophy case they switched frequencies. I hacked the channel, though, so I could listen in on their game plan. Either Fury knew I was listening but didn’t care because he didn’t think there was any way to dodge a nuke, or he didn’t know and that was why he offered his agents the courtesy of knowing they were about to meet their maker.”

Loki nods slowly. “True. The Director would not allow sentiment to endanger his last line of defence. He would have remained silent if he thought knowledge of the attack might provide me with an escape route.”

“He underestimated one of us; and I’d personally like to think that it was me. He thought the line was secure and unknowingly gave us a heads up. That’s why I’ve got JARVIS monitoring all known SHIELD communications. They’ll be the first ones to know if and when bodies are found. Plus, I thought it would be useful to know when they figure out that we went back for the Tesseract.”

“Good work Stark,” Loki mumbles as he sips his drink.

“Thanks Boss,” Stark replies with a wide grin. He salutes Loki with his cup before consuming the rest of the beverage. “So, what’s our next move?”

Loki takes a moment to consider his answer.

“We wait for now. I was too eager to prove myself before – I will not make that mistake again. We will remain hidden until we know which of Earth’s heroes remain. Then I will decide where the next battle should take place. By then my magic should be fully restored and I shall not be so easily defeated.”

Stark nods. “So what do you want to do while you wait O Fearless Leader? You’ve already eaten, slept, bathed, and seen the most exciting thing currently running on TV. Tell me how you wish to be entertained.”

Loki reaches out to cup Stark’s jaw. “Might I suggest we continue from where we left off in your monument to narcissism?”

Interest brightens Stark’s brilliant blue eyes. “That is a good suggestion; one I am more than happy to oblige. Just name the place and position My Lord.”

“I believe the bedroom would be best for this,” Loki replies as his thumb descends to caress the pulse in Stark’s neck.

“Great. One question though: do you pitch or catch?” When all he receives from Loki is a look of confusion he amends, “Do you prefer having a dick stuck up your ass or are you the kind of man who likes to do the sticking?”

“I have never let another man take me,” Loki almost growls.

“Fair enough,” Stark replies congenially. “But in that case you’ll have to amuse yourself for awhile. I have some preparations to make.”

“Preparations?”

“Yeah.” Stark replies steadily, holding his gaze. “You don’t seem the type to want to break your toys the first time you play with them, and it’s been a hell of a long time since I let anyone in through the backdoor. Which means we’re either going to have to take this slow or you’re going to have to give me some time to prepare. Or just avoid anal for now. I thought you’d prefer the middle option,” he finishes with a shrug.

“You thought wrong,” Loki says, his hand still resting against Stark's vulnerable neck.

Uncertainty creases Stark's brow. “Then how do you want to play this?”

How indeed. Loki has no more idea what he wants than Stark - all he knows is that he _wants_ and that he is unwilling to wait to sate this sudden desire. The strength of his need surprises him, and Loki lays the blame for it entirely on Stark for reawakening his passions before the battle. For months his need for recognition and revenge had sustained him; now those needs seem to have been drowned out by his thirst for flesh. Yes, the blame rests entirely on Stark – having power over Barton and Selvig had not moved him so. But having someone as brilliant and spirited as Stark, having control of someone whom Loki has come to respect, that is an unexpected aphrodisiac. When the threat of battle loomed large and unavoidable before him he'd been able to quash his passions; in this moment of calm he has no need to deny himself anything – he is free to take as much as he pleases, and it pleases him to take Stark as he is right now. 

Without putting much thought into the action Loki takes a firm hold of the base of Stark's skull and forces his mouth on the mortal's. Stark's hands go immediately to his waist, seeking to pull Loki closer rather than push him away in distress or disgust. The action causes the god's mouth to curve into a grin. Gently, he separates their conjoined lips and whispers, “Kneel.”

Stark falls to his knees immediately. He gazes up at Loki with blue eyes that swirl with the power of the Tesseract; with loyalty and desire he would not feel if Loki had not regained his sceptre before Fury's weapon destroyed New York.

“Are you ready to hear the commands of your king Stark?”

“Yes,” the man replies with an eagerness that Loki suspects is no act.

“You are to worship me, for I am a god as well as your king. You will use your hands and mouth to give me pleasure, and you will take none of your own until I am satisfied. Do you understand?”

“Yes, _Your Majesty_.”

There is a hint of mockery there, but not enough to make Loki think Stark will hold anything back in attempting to fulfil Loki's commandment. “Then you may begin.”

Just as the man begins to bend towards Loki's waiting boot, an obnoxious sound rents the peace surroundings them. Loki turns his attention towards the woman still sowing fear and a lack of information to the masses, but she appears unperturbed by the sound. He glances down at Stark to see that the man's gaze is also turned towards the 'news'.

“Mute that JARVIS.”

The sound of the woman's voice disappears. The obnoxious sound is repeated, lasting longer this time.

“Car horn,” Stark mutters, likely to himself. “JARVIS, do we have guests I don't know about?”

“No Sir.”

Stark's blue eyes narrow as the horn sounds in four short, shrill bursts. “JARVIS, visual on the front gate.”

“Sir please,” the servant pleads, causing a look of fury Loki has not seen before to invade Stark's features.

“Now JARVIS!”

The servant complies without further protest. The image of the newswoman is replaced by that of a woman with red hair glaring into the camera, occasionally shouting some unheard words or leaning into her vehicle to cause the sound which is now truly starting to grate against Loki's nerves.

“Who is she?” he growls, already formulating a satisfying way to end her.

Surprisingly, Stark ignores him.

“Give me audio.”

Suddenly the woman's furious words ring clear in the otherwise silent room. “Tony! I know you're there Tony! Why won't JARVIS let me in? What happened in New York?”

“JARVIS,” Stark says, dangerously quiet, “what did you say to her?”

“I tried to dissuade her from entering Sir, but Miss Potts does not accept my explanation that the beach house is currently off-limits due to a chemical spillage. She believes by some miracle you have found your way here and are refusing to see her.”

Loki smiles at the irony. Then he notices Stark's gaze is turned towards him and raises a questioning eyebrow. Stark winces, looking both apologetic and pained. “She's not going to leave without putting up one hell of a fight, and then it won't be quietly. Maybe if I talk to her...”

“You wish to reveal your location to someone who will undoubtedly betray you to your world's remaining heroes?”

“Pepper wouldn't do that.”

“Perhaps not knowingly, but if she breathes but a word within earshot of an agent or spying trinket...” Loki's expression hardens. “She needs to be dealt with Stark.”

“Use the sceptre,” Stark practically begs. “She can be useful to you; please don't kill her.”

Loki considers the man carefully, wondering how such loyalty remains whilst he is under Loki's control. “This woman – she is precious to you.”

Stark nods slowly, his gaze never wavering. “She was all I had, before I met you. Before the Tesseract gave me a purpose.”

“So if I ordered you to kill her..?”

For a moment Stark is silent. Then his eyes flash a brighter, purer blue and he answers, “I'm like the genie; your wish is my command.”

Loki nods, reassured that his power over the man has not somehow been disrupted as it was over Barton. Which means that his defence of this woman in some way has the Tesseract's tacit approval. “How do you believe she can aid me?”

“My company would have fallen apart without Pepper. She is organisation and negotiation and efficiency incarnate, with a sharp tongue and a wicked sense of humour to match my own. She's not bad-looking either,” Stark answers with a crooked grin. “Also, on a more serious note, if you're thinking of going down the political sabotage route she's your diamond gal. She'll be able to tell you who to kill and who to recruit so that the next time you throw a party SHIELD won't be able to call the cops on us. You'll be able to take out the remaining Avengers on your terms, not theirs.”

Loki has to admit that he likes what Stark is saying. He has been toying with the idea of uncovering those with real power on this miserable planet and dealing with them in one way or another before again summoning his army. If this woman can bring him the knowledge he needs to achieve this aim then he would be remiss to dispatch her without thought. Still...

“You are certain it is not sentiment that clouds your judgement of her value?”

“I am,” Stark replies, his eyes once again flashing with power. “I can see the big picture you know. The Tesseract told me – it showed me a vision of what the world could be. I know my purpose; the role I play in bringing about your dream. I'd never do anything to compromise that.

“But I also know Pepper and what she is capable of. I assure you, if you bring her into the fold you won't regret it.”

Again, Loki takes a moment to consider Stark's words.

“Very well. Let her in and I will retrieve the sceptre.”

Beaming, Stark bends and places a flurry of kisses across Loki's boot. “Thank you,” he murmurs before scrambling to his feet, ordering his servant to open the gates as he makes his way towards the entranceway.

It is with a great deal of disappointment that Loki slips through space to Stark's laboratory to retrieve the sceptre. He does not appreciate having his fun postponed, however temporary the situation might be. Hopefully this woman will be worth it.

Taking the sceptre in hand, an alien power floods through him, reminding him of the promises he has made and the sacrifices he will have to make to keep them. Loki sighs as he returns to Stark.

It's not easy being a god.

***

The recruitment of Pepper Potts goes far more smoothly than Loki anticipates. Distracted by her wrath and worry for Stark it is easy for the man to make her vulnerable to Loki's strike. After a brief moment of confusion her eyes shine bright and a professional smile crosses her face. “Tony, bring coffee. Loki and I need to strategize.”

What follows is an afternoon of intense debate regarding the efficacy of Loki's half-devised plots and ideas. Stark leaves half way through, but the god is so distracted that he barely notices the departure. The Man of Iron's strength lies more in improvisation than in planning a lengthy campaign; it is Pepper Potts whose suggestions truly capture Loki's imagination and make him believe that his goal is more than obtainable.

By the end of the session Loki's mind is abuzz with thoughts of what is to come. Smiling in a way that reminds Loki of his mother, Pepper Potts rises gracefully to her feet. “I'm afraid we will need to end our meeting there Your Highness. It's getting late and if I don't make an appearance back at Stark Industries soon it will raise suspicions. If you wish it I can return in a few hours with take-out.”

“Take-out?”

“Dinner. I assure you it will be far more edible than anything Tony or I could concoct with what is residing in his freezer.”

“Very well,” Loki mumbles, his mind too occupied by other matters to give more than a passing thought to such mundane tasks as eating.

However, he is not so distracted that he misses the bright flash of blue across Pepper Potts' bespelled eyes. Her smile turns almost predatory as she says, “Try not to have _too_ much fun with Tony while I'm away; unless you're willing to share him I'm going to have to insist that the two of you are presentable at dinner.”

Loki narrows his eyes, wary but curious. “What is your relationship with Stark? His version of events was rather short on details.”

“He was my boss. Then he thought he was dying and made me _his_ boss. In theory, anyway. It was more of a partnership, with Tony somehow always able to turn himself into the lead partner. Then there was the sexual element of our relationship. Tony's been attempting monogamy for me for the last year but I've always wondered if that was an aspect of our relationship he would eventually want to renegotiate. Or someone else would renegotiate for him.”

Her look is pointed, letting Loki know that the fate of her relationship with Stark now rests in his hands.

“And if I decreed that you may not lay a hand upon him again?”

There is irony in her smile as she replies, “I know my European history. When a woman caught the king's attention her husband knew better than to stake his claim. Dissenters do not last long in an autocratic society.”

“Indeed? You are a historian as well as an excellent strategist?”

“Don't the two go hand in hand? 'Those who do not learn from the mistakes of the past are doomed to repeat them'. Even in this so-called 'Age of Enlightenment' a woman doesn't just walk into the role of CEO. You need to know how to play the odds and play the men with the power – to be powerful enough to instill respect, but not so much that they start to fear you and plot your downfall. I often look to the women who made their mark on history to learn how to walk that fine line between success and failure.”

A smile tugs at Loki's lips. “Be careful Ms. Potts or you might just catch my attention too.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

Loki gives his own version of her predatory smirk. “You best leave now Ms. Potts before I decide keeping you is worth the risk of raising suspicions.”

“As you wish My King.”

After a short curtsy she turns and exits the dwelling, leaving Loki alone with the impure thoughts she has inspired. “Servant, where is Stark?”

There is silence for a moment before a response is grudgingly issued.

“Mr Stark awaits you in his bedroom.”

“Oh?” Loki says, mirth and anticipation forming a delicious mixture in his belly. “Does that mean he is ready to begin from where we were so rudely interrupted?”

“It does Sir.”

Loki almost laughs at the venom in the reply. “Excellent. Please inform your master that I shall be with him momentarily.”

Leaving the sceptre in the communal area, Loki stalks up the stairs to the sleeping quarters. Apart from the door to the chamber he had used earlier only one other has been left open; an invitation Loki is more than eager to accept. Slowly, the god approaches the threshold, savouring the anticipation that can only be surpassed by-

-the sight of Stark stripped bare and waiting on his knees by the opulently sized bed.

“Stark,” Loki purrs, all thoughts of world domination pushed to the back of his mind by the mortal who has already fully surrendered himself to Loki's will.

Raising his head from its demure bow, Stark is unable to repress his grin. “Majesty. Thought any more on how I might be of service or should I just continue from where we left off?”

“Yes.”

Stark's grin grows. “'Yes' in general or 'Yes' to a particular part of my question?”

Loki scowls at the impudence. “Do you not have a better use for your mouth?”

“I don't know, do I?”

Instead of waiting for a response Stark begins to crawl across the floor towards Loki. Leaning down so that his lips brush lightly over Loki's boots, the mortal begins his worship. The sight causes Loki's loins to stir and he is tempted to forgo this foreplay. Then, as Stark rises to help Loki out of his boot, the god notices that he is not the only one enjoying this.

“Does being at my feet give you pleasure Stark?”

“Apparently,” the man answers as he eases Loki's foot free of its prison. “I mean, I probably mentioned before that my usual arrangement with men is a blow job in exchange for getting to bend them over the nearest flat surface? Well that started out as pure quid pro quo – you scratch my back I scratch yours – but then it turned out I have a terrible oral fixation and possibly a little masochistic streak in there too. I mean, those assholes weren't exactly gentle or whispered sweet nothings to me while I swallowed their cum. Nope, it was all 'I always knew you were a whore' and 'I bet you've been dreaming about this for months slut'. Don't get me wrong, I gave as good as I got when it was my turn to abuse the power. But whereas those suits put up with it because this was what they'd signed up for I did sort of enjoy the whole experience. Oh, the joys of being a self-hating narcissist.”

“Stark-”

“Right, right; talking about other men isn't sexy. You should know by now that I often end up going off on a tangent. What was the original question? Oh, and do you want your dick sucking while I'm down here or should I move onto unexplored territory?”

Loki sighs. “Your ramblings were far more entertaining during our first liaison.”

“Were they?” Stark tilts his head, thinking back on their time at the top of his Tower. “Ah, you want to hear more about how I'm a dirty whore and thirsty for your cum? I can do that.” Running his hands seductively up Loki's legs to settle at his hips, Stark looks up at him through his lashes and breathes, “Please Loki. Please, I'm desperate. I need – I need you. I need your cock: need to choke on it, need to feel my lips stretch around it, need the taste of you on my tongue. Please don't deny me this; don't deny your most faithful servant the chance to worship at your alter. I, _fuck,_ I'll go mad without you inside me. I'll-”

“ _The other boot Stark_.”

Without missing a beat the mortal returns to disrobing Loki.

“You're a god – I know now that you're a god and have godly stamina. You're going to cum down my throat and be ready for round two instantly. You're going to be ready to take me up the ass, to bend me over and impale me with your legendary cock. And you're going to be surprised by just how tight I am even after I spent the last hour preparing myself so that I'd be ready – because I'm a whore and knew I wouldn't be able to wait. I knew as soon as you looked at me I'd be _aching_ for your cock. So I made sure I'd be ready for you to use, again and again, long past the point at which I'm wrung dry and sobbing and begging and completely incoherent because I don't know if I want you to stop or _keep going_ because suddenly death by multiple orgasms from impalement on a massive cock is exactly how I want to go. How am I doing by the way?”

By this point Stark has divested Loki of his lower garments and risen to help him remove the rest.

“Marvellously,” Loki breathes. “In fact, I believe such devoted service deserves a reward.”

“Reward?” Stark parrots with a grin that is both interested and curious.

“Yes.” Loki sighs as the final shred of linen falls from his person to the floor. “You speak with such heat of your desire for my cock. I think I shall allow you to gorge yourself on it before I take all that I desire from you.”

“Thank you my king; you are truly a generous god,” the mortal says as he returns to his knees. Slowly, the man licks his lips; then he opens wide and takes Loki deep into his throat.

Loki closes his eyes and allows himself to relax as Stark lavishes him with wet caresses and rhythmic constrictions. “Such skill,” he murmurs. “You must have always known that destiny would lead you here. You knew that one day you would end up kneeling before your god and that he would have need of your mouth. That is why you offered yourself up to those many others, so that when the time came you could service your god the way I deserve to be serviced.”

Stark hums his agreement, producing wonderful vibrations along Loki's member.

“Or,” the god continues slyly, “perhaps you have always been a pathetic slut and these are simply the lies you tell yourself to ease the sting of the knowledge that you are so desperate for affection that you will do anything to gain even the illusion of love. You cast aside your pride, risk what little reputation you have, all so that you might feel a kind touch or hear the praise you crave. But it never comes does it? You throw your whole being into bringing pleasure, degrade yourself until even you begin to feel disgust for the submissive creature you have become, and yet still you do not receive the reward you seek. Does it burn to know that you have done all these things in vain? That you will never find what you seek? That it is your own hand that has brought you to your knees and now that you are there you shall never rise because-”

Stark moans and the pleasure causes Loki's train of thought to become derailed.

With an obscene pop Loki comes free from Stark's mouth. “Can I ride you?” the man asks breathlessly, his pupils blown wide.

“What?” is about as intelligent a reply as Loki can manage.

“You lie on your back, I sit on your cock, and then I gorge my hungry ass on that massive piece of meat hanging between your legs. Please? You did say my reward was to gorge myself on your cock.”

“Yes, I did.”

It takes Loki barely a second of imagining Stark astride him to decide that this is an excellent idea. Striding towards the bed, the god arranges the pillows so that he will have the best angle to watch Stark work before moving into position. Taking that as his cue, the mortal crawls across the floor and up onto the bed. Straddling Loki's hips, the man reaches behind him for Loki's eager cock and carefully lowers his equally eager ass towards it. Loki penetrates Stark slowly, and it is clear by the discomfort on the man's face that he had not been lying when he said he was not use to such intrusions. He had also not been lying when he'd said Loki would be surprised by just how tight he was. Surprised – and delighted.

“Oh Stark,” Loki all but sighs as the man finally settles.

Forcing a grin the mortal says with a humour he does not quite feel, “Hey, this isn't even the main attraction; don't jump the shark before I've shown you what this body can really do.”

It does not take long for Stark to adjust to Loki's size. After a few experimental thrusts Stark's look of pained concentration becomes one of unrestrained abandon as he places his hands on Loki's chest and uses the new angle to recklessly impale himself again and again.

“Loki! Loki! Yes! Yes! So big! Fuck!”

Hands buried in the sheets below him, Loki grins as he enjoys the show playing out before him. “Are you having fun my whore?”

“Yes, my king, _yes_!”

“Tell me how my gift feels.”

“It fills me up so good. Yeah, can't believe I've been – been missing out on this all my life. It's amazing Loki. I love your cock. I love how big it is. Yes!”

“And are you ready for your release?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Then you best hurry and satisfy your king before you lose my cock and go unsatisfied for the night.”

Groaning, Stark again shifts the angle, clenching tight around Loki. “Please my king. Please come in me. Make me yours. Fill me with your cum. I want to wake up tomorrow wrecked and leaking. I want to wipe your cum off my thighs and taste you. I want to be full of your cum when you fuck me in the morning. I want to _bathe_ in your cum so that everyone will know that I belong to you. Please Loki!”

With an almost animalistic growl Loki grabs Stark and twists so that the man is pinned below him. A few rapid thrusts later he spills his seed, fulfilling Stark's desire. The mortal whimpers, his hands grasping Loki tightly.

“Please Loki.”

Breathless, Loki stares blankly down at Stark's desperation. With another whimper the man raises his hips to remind Loki of how needy he still is. Realisation causes a wicked smirk to possess the god's lips as he reaches for Stark's manhood. “Is this what you crave my whore?” he purrs as he casually caresses the pulsating flesh.

“Yes! Loki!”

“And you think you deserve it? You think you have pleased me enough to do this for you?”

“Yes!”

Loki takes a moment to consider this. “Hmm, I'm not sure if I agree with you assessment,” he says as he releases his hold.

Stark's eyes flash with rage as he attempts to buck up into Loki's hand. “You asshole,” he snarls as the god uses his weight to prevent the man from finding the friction he is searching for.

“Language.”

“Fuck you! If you think you can get away with this then-”

A particularly firm stroke causes Stark to stumble in the middle of his tirade.

“Oh. You're fucking with me aren't you?”

Laughing softly, Loki continues his ministrations. “Your ire is almost as delicious as your desperation.”

“Well you'll be seeing plenty of it if I don't get my orgasm in the next sixty seconds.”

Loki's thumb presses against the sensitive tip and leaves Stark gasping. “Such irreverence,” the god muses. “I feel I should punish you for it.”

“You can bend me over your knee later; just get me off first.”

“I shall hold you to that.”

Finally moving with the intention of ending their game, Loki's hand works Stark into a frenzy that has him clinging desperately to his god.

“You have served me well my whore. Now – show me how pretty you look at the climax of your pleasure.”

Stark orgasms with a cry of relief – and it is indeed a sight to behold. His whole body goes limp with the bone-deep satisfaction Loki has gifted him, his eyes slipping shut so that he might better savour it. Pulling out of the mortal, Loki sits up to observe his work. What he sees fills him with a pride he has not felt since he first entered manhood and sex was a novel experience to explore and an art to perfect. Since then it has been more a method of exorcising his frustrations with partners whose faces he barely remembers. He is unsure why it is different with Stark; perhaps it is because he so desperately wanted Loki rather than simply feeling obligated to follow the prince to his bed when commanded? Or perhaps it is because Stark is an amusing, intriguing, brilliant man? Having a genius like Stark crave his touch is truly an aphrodisiac Loki feels no shame in partaking in.

Remembering the desperate words Stark had spoken and how he had been waiting so impatiently for Loki's arrival stirs Loki's loins and he casts a critical eye over the man who might be asleep if it were not for the unsteady rhythm of his breathing.

“How long before you are ready to resume?”

Stark grunts, clearly unhappy at being disturbed. “Twenty minutes?”

“That long?”

Frowning, Stark forces his eyes open to meet Loki's gaze. “Hey, we're not all gods here. I'll be ready when I'm ready.”

Matching his frown Loki replies, a touch petulantly, “I could just take you now.”

“Would you enjoy that? Taking me roughly before I'm ready?”

“I might.”

Stark holds his gaze for a moment before shrugging. “Fine, go ahead. But I won't be your desperate whore I'll just be a piece of meat for your dick. If that's what you want then I won't stop you from taking it.”

Loki considers the mortal's words before deciding he has a point. If Stark's eagerness is what he craves then using him as a means to an end will bring him no satisfaction; it would be better to wait until his bed partner is recovered. After all, twenty minutes is nothing to a being like Loki - it will not hurt him to once again exercise patience.

“Very well, I will wait for you to regain your strength,” Loki sighs as if he is greatly put-upon by this. “However, you shall amuse me during the interval.”

“What?” Stark groans. “Can't you entertain yourself while I take a power nap?”

“Is that how you speak to your god Stark?”

“Baby you know it is. Especially when said god has just blown my fucking mind with his expert fucking skills.”

“Indeed?” Loki smiles as he settles himself along Stark's side.

“Yeah.” Stark wets his dry lips, eyes fluttering shut. “I mean, I did most of the heavy lifting but right at the end there you gave a great demo of what I'm in for when you're the one on top. If you pound me like that from the get-go I'll either end up with a broken pelvis or having the best orgasm of my life. And those hands? You're going to use those hands to torture me again aren't you? Get me all riled up from a few well placed caresses and then tell me I have to wait for you to be ready to fuck me. Yeah, and I'll bet there'll be rope involved. I'll be tied to the bed waiting while you go get a drink or have a meeting with Pepper – I'll just be lying here consumed with lust wishing I could rub my cock against something other than air. Then you'll come back and make me beg for it. I'll tell you just how much I need you inside me, that I'm a slut for your dick. You'll tell me I'm pathetic and don't deserve it but you'll fuck me anyway because you're generous like that. Then you'll pound me hard until I'm sobbing and screaming your name. I'll be begging for mercy and you'll grant it because you're a benevolent god.”

Stark's fatigue does not stop him from hardening as his body prepares him for further activities. Grinning, Loki reaches out to aid him in reawakening his desire.

“Is that what you wish for me to be right now Stark? Do you wish for me to be a benevolent god?”

Opening his eyes, Stark meets his gaze head-on. “No,” he answers softly.

“No?”

“I want you to be a possessive god. I want you to fuck me into the mattress and fill me so full of your cum that I'll never forget who I belong to.”

Unable to resist such a heartfelt request, Loki flips Stark onto his stomach and moves to take his place between the mortal's legs. The man spreads them in welcome, whimpering lightly as Loki grabs him by the hips and raises him onto his knees. Spitting into his palm, Loki coats himself with just enough saliva to stop himself from permanently damaging his whore. If the mortal wishes to know who he belongs to then who is Loki to refuse him the gift of such precious knowledge?

With his first thrust he sheaths himself almost completely in Stark. The mortal's cry of mixed pain and pleasure is almost lost as he buries his face in the pillow dragged close to his chest. Grinning, Loki slowly retreats before slamming back into Stark. The man's back arches beautifully as he again attempts to muffle his scream.

“Fuck Loki,” the man gasps, turning his body just enough to catch a glimpse of the god over his shoulder. “You know if you do actually break my pelvis it won't be sexy right? It'll be an ugly mess and I will complain about it constantly until you either slit my throat or find some way to fix it.”

“Is that your way of saying I am too much for you Stark?” Loki asks slyly, running one hand from the curve of the man's hip down his thigh and back again, making sure his fingers brush feather-light against the mortal's tense sack.

“No,” the man mumbles. “Just letting you know that when I start screaming for you to do me harder I don't actually want you to do me a serious injury. Because that? What you did just there? I need more of that. And faster. And harder. Just please don't actually kill me with sex.”

“Do not fret my sweet whore,” Loki croons as he again slams mercilessly into Stark. “I know how to control my strength. You shall not break. Not unless I will it.”

Stark moans, his hips canting back towards Loki. “Then please, Loki, please fuck me. Fuck me hard and fast and dirty. Fuck me until I scream. Then keep fucking me until I'm either hoarse or unconscious.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely...”

Another thrust has the mortal whimpering and once again hiding his face in the pillow. Heart thrumming with anticipation, Loki shifts his stance and grips Stark's hip with enough force that he is certain there will be bruises by the morrow. Then he honours Stark's request and makes him scream.

***

When at last Stark's mechanical servant gruffly pronounces that Pepper Potts will soon be arriving with dinner, even Loki's godly stamina has reached its limit. Feeling truly sated for what feels like the first time in centuries, the would-be king is tempted to forgo the meal with his advisor to join his knight in well-deserved slumber.

Running a gentle hand over the marks he has left on Stark's skin, Loki remembers how the man had come apart beneath him, all the while begging desperately for more. Sighing, he rises from their bed and heads towards the room he had bathed in when they first returned from the battle. As much as he has enjoyed this diversion that is all it can be. A diversion, a break between plots and plays for the throne of Midgard. Loki is no fool; he is well aware that Stark's desire for him is a product of the Tesseract – a way to keep him sane and on target. (And hadn't their first tryst at the top of Stark's tower proven how effective a method it was?). He must never forget that and become distracted by his carnal desires. Not until the Tesseract is delivered to Thanos. Then, as per his agreement with the Mad Titan, Stark and Midgard will be Loki's to do with as he pleases. When he is king he will have all the time in the world to bask in the adulation of his adoring subjects. Until then he will have to practice moderation. Which is all the more reason to start his campaign as soon as possible.

With a vicious grin Loki activates the spray of water and steps beneath it.

“Let the war begin.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first part of this shortly after I posted Just Relax. Then I got to the porn and was completely stumped as to how to proceed. So I hope the nearly 3 year gap hasn't changed my writing style so much that it's jarring to read.


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